Steve's Meatball Sandwich Experience

One of our Saturday rituals is to get a sandwich at the Italian Importing Co. in Sacramento. I discovered this place about 8 years ago when I moved to Sacramento and lived around the corner. They have a grip of a meatball sandwich that is to die for. It's total grubbage. My wife gets the avocado and cheese sandwich. We love this little Italian grocery store. It's very old fashioned. They have fresh sausages and pasta. Anything Italian that is worthwhile is there. My sister in law's are drooling as they read this because they so wanna go there sometime.

This morning I lined up some chores. I finished raking leaves out of my backyard. Cleaned up my lawnmower so I can give it away. Changed the battery in the Porsche and got the thing running. It's running like crap right now but at least it starts and I can drive it. I took it over to the Italian store for the sandwich run.

While parking in front as usual on Saturday, I noticed a large group of people, maybe 15 or so walking towards the corner where the store was. What was weird was they all were dressed in black. They didn't look like goths or Jehovah's Witnesses or some cult but it was striking to see they were all in black. Maybe a funeral or maybe it was work attire, who knows.

It takes a while to get out of the Porsche. The linkage is broken or stuck or something on the driver side so I have to sort of "Dukes of Hazzard" it out of the car. I was about 30 feet from the door of the store and so was the group. The guys sorta slowed to admire the car. The ladies kept walking and just walking SLOW!!! I mean, molasses on New Years day in Peoria, Illinois slow. (s'up lawryde) And to top if off they were like six-wide on the sidewalk. WTF I thought.

I didn't think they were going for the store but they did last second and in the process I bumped into one of the ladies in front of me. Now one funny accidental thing about the grocery store is that the front door is backwards. You don't "pull" you push. Most stores you pull to get in, because of a fire. One of the ladies pulled on it like 4 times and exclaimed, "They're closed."

"PUSH!!" I say rudely, drawing attention to the big letters on the door that say "PUSH". The first lady heads in with like four of them following and the guys were behind me. I swear the lady gets no farther than 1 foot in the door and she stops, causing me to bump into the ladies again. Christ! I think to myself.

Now the guys in the group are right on me. I am wearing a green shirt so I totally stick out in this dark group of people because I don't belong. You can tell I am separate. I duck left hoping that if I hurry around the back I can flank the group before they get to the sandwich counter. I was foiled by a 4 foot tall lady standing behind the 4 foot 1 inch tall pasta rack. I swear the lady was just a stack of dirt and bones with the pasta packages pressed up against her face. We sort of tied. I was right there with the lead lady. The owner of the store comes to the counter and says, "Who's next?"

This ownern guy is totally cross eyed. I knew this and it was my advantage because when he looked like he was looking at the lady, I knew, after 8 years as a loyal customer that the man was looking at me, by looking at her. Before she can order, I raise my index finger and yell, "Here!" and then I turned and glared at the lady, with an evil scowl like, "Don't you even think about ordering your 15 sandwiches before me, bitch!" I got my sandwich in before the group ordered their meatball sandwiches. There are three people working at this store. Three! I'd still be there if I didn't press the issue.

I am a such a jerk, but you all knew that!

What if Steve died?

Obituary in Sacramento Bee 3/8/06: Stephen (Name with-held for indentity security), 32, Sacramento. Survived by his darling wife, (name starts with K) and his unborn child, his Parents, two Brothers, two Nieces and two Nephews. Stephen graduated from the University of the Pacific, Stockton, CA and still up until his death had his trademark Birkenstocks and Doc Martens in his closet. Stephen worked for almost 9 years for a large Fortune 500 company where he was a top employee. He loved playing guitar, writing on his blog, racing his Porsche, working on his house, his 4 cats Abbey, Jack, Daisy and Flea and dog Trisha, his iPod, his Apple computer, Fantasy Sports leagues, three card poker, and being a royal pain in the ass. Stephen played football in high school for one year where he sat on the end of the bench, guarded the water bottle and tackled anyone who came near it. He played on all the return and kick off teams as well. Stephen was the lead guitarist for now defunct Sacramento jam band, Perception. They had no albums and played about three gigs, one of which was paid. He saw u2 five times, was verbally assaulted by Gwen Stefani and was once carried on the shoulders of Shaquille O'Neal. He worked at the Macy's on Santa Monica's famed 3rd Street Promenade. He was a die hard Republican and a big fan of TV's Law and Order. He had at least four concussions, one pretty serious. He didn't smoke or do drugs but he's drank more than his fairshare of Guinness, Jameson and Knob Creek. Known for coining the phrase, "Let's blow this hotdog stand" when leaving a room. His dream was to play guitar with Mike Ness from Social Distortion.

As weird as it sounds, it felt good to sit down and write my own obituary today.

Death has the ultimate lasting effect and everyone will face this challenge, sometime soon or sometime within the next 40, 50 even 60 years. I mean, face it, it's unavoidable even if you are well to do or even live a lifetime full of luck. The oldest anyone can live is probably 125 years and your chances of that are probably 1 in 5 billion! Well that's probably a guess but there are only two people alive over 118 right now!

I didn't sleep last night. I couldn't shut it down. I couldn't relax. I even listened to some Ben Folds Five on low volume because that will put you to sleep. It didn't so I went downstairs, popped an amitriptyline, laid on the couch and watched TV. I was all up and worried about death, not the death of anyone else but my mortality. We've had some troubling news this past weekend regarding mortality and short lives. We had the stroke and then death of Minnesota Twins great, Kirby Puckett age 45, followed by the death of Dana Reeve, age 45, from Lung Cancer. I'll tell you what, these deaths scare the living shit out of me. 45!! That's like 13 years from now for me. 45? That's not old at all! I am a just 32. Strokes, cancer... that only happens to old people right? Apparently not so. It can happen to me as well. It can happen to you! Now, today. Dead. Gone! It's over man...

The event of your death is probably pretty peaceful. Even if agonizingly slow, when the end comes, it's probably like a flick of a light switch. Whether it goes completely black or turns into heaven, you'll never really know unless it's actually, well... heaven! Or perhaps, hell. But this isn't totally what freaks me out. It's the ancillary effects surrounding your death. Things attached to your life, what you saw, what you did and how you left it are ultimately what counts the most. The people you know who's lives you care for and support. Right? You read about Dana Reeve and Kirby Puckett and see the endless reruns through out the night regarding Dana's life on CNN. They wheel out all these great people like Lance Armstrong and Deepak Chopra to talk the "spirtuality of cancer" and what a great person Dana was with her unselfish devotion to her husband and the spinal cord damage research charity they formed. You watch ESPN and saw what just a genuinely unselfish athlete like Kirby Puckett was like and all these people who admire him and his accomplishments. And this is where I stumble the most with the issue of death: What will they say about me? Will my obituary be what it I want it to be? Who will I leave behind? What will I have accomplished? Did I lead a good life, whatever that is? It's a scary thought process to contemplate. Death... YOU!! Ahhhh!!!!!

Well, I decided today to write this post and bring this issue forward to my keyboard to get it out of my system, and just move on. Blogging is therapy. You say your piece and move on. After last night and the recent short lives of Kirby Puckett and Dana Reeve, I just looked at everyone, especially the older people I saw today, with a bit of admiration and happiness. We all need to stop and smell the roses once in while. Life is way too short!

Steve's Evil Visit to Starbucks

Okay, today I have been in slow motion. Slow to get up. Slow to get ready. The weather was bad today so I was really just moving in a gloomy state.

At 8 o'clock, I pulled into a Starbuck's for my morning pick me up. I swear I should just start mainlining caffiene into my veins. It's just crazy. I walked into the door and to my suprise, no one was in the place. This Starbucks was empty which is rare, especially around here. I didn't think much about it. I casually stood at the door and opened it for a lady to come in.

She was big lady in her 50's and on the cell phone. I made my way in front of her because she was moving slow. I stopped to check out the new Hendrix CD they have on sale which only took a second. I turn around and she is at the register. She totally cut in front of me.

So instead of ordering guess she does? She keeps talking on the phone completely oblivious to the attendant asking for her order. It gets worse, she carries on for a minute or so. I just sit back with my arms folded and just glare. She finally decides to order and orders something that requires a question from the attendant. She doesn't answer. I can't recall what it was but it was required to make the drink. I am just sitting there, still glaring, and still pissed.

Pretty much, now everyone that works at this Starbucks is annoyed by this lady. There are three workers just all waiting. The lady finally answers the question after the third time. And finally, I can order. She gets her coffee and she carries on over at the cream and sugar area with her conversation on the phone.

I make a smart remark to the attendants and they all laugh. I get my Triple Mocha and on the way out I notice something on the counter. It was the lady's keys she had been jingling the whole time. Carpe Diem! I went into action. I picked them up and put them in the rack behind the Jimi Hendrix CD's so you could barely notice them, and then left!

I had parked in the street next to the big window outside Starbucks. I just sat in my truck and watched as the lady went first to her car, then look in her purse, and finally develop that "Oh Shit!" look on her face. It was totally cool because from my vantage point, I can see her march from the parking lot back into Starbucks. She must have been in a hurry. No one appeared to be helping her. I almost spilled my coffee as I was laughing so hard in my truck. It made my day... I felt great as I pulled away.

I wonder if she found them...

Steve Encounters Hippie, Makes a New Friend...

Yesterday was my wife and I's anniversary. Six years of marrital bliss! We decided to be insane and head up to Tahoe Friday night for a weekend stay. Yeah, stupid to say the least, there was like a foot a snow covering the road and it took us seven hours when it normally takes two. Saturday was clear and we were able to hit our favorite restaurants like the Bridge Tender and Sunnyside. Sunnyside was great, I had a prime rib and she had shrimp fettucini. We sat by the window. It was romantic until the elf family showed up. This obnoxious little family with like a bundle of kids aging probably 15 to 3. Annoying as all hell with their Shirley Temples, Budwisers and White Zinfindel. They were in awe of me eating prime rib. I freaking hate it when people talk to you when you are eating.

Anyhow, we got up at six this morning to race down the hill before the storm hit. We would havd loved to stay until Monday but the storm looks pretty big hitting us. I'd have taken more pictures but my camera froze. The above picture is is what the cabin looked like all buried in the snow.

On the way out, I hit the little cafe next to the Bridge Tender. I can't recall the name but it is right on the bridge next to the Truckee River, the river Lake Tahoe feeds. I walked into this place and it was another world. Totally granola if you know what I mean. It was a hip-i-fied cozy little coffee shop with all natural breakfast food, fresh juice and what I came in to get, a mean Mocha with a few shots of Expresso.

The barista, the man making the coffee drinks, was totally cool. He was probably in his 50's and probably lived in Tahoe all his life. Greying long hair and a braided brownish grey beard and beedy little granny glasses. He was giving away. "Low Life Local" stickers away at the counter. You can here Trey Anastasio wailing on the guitar in the background. You can tell it was a bootlegged live , "Phish" album playing.

"So man, what's happening?" the coffee guys says.

"Not much, I am just getting an early start this morning... Gotta hit the hill", I say.

"Cool man..." He says

"You know what the conditions are like?" I ask.

"It's bottomless man, totally bottomless..." He says.

Now I am totally confused by this statement as the guy behind me orders his coffee. He is decked out in snowboard wear. He is ready for the day

"Dude...", the snowboarder says, "I am recycling man, look I brought back my drink sleeve for my coffee, I'll take a 20 ouncer and a muffin"

"Righteous man, It's all about conservation!" the coffee guy says.

The snowboarder is then introduced to every worker in the place. It was like a total commune family, being totally capitalist and charging more than Starbucks up the street does for coffee.

"Have you had our expresso before, man?" the coffee guy says to me.

"Yeah, it's good... I have had it a few times." I say, staring out the window at my Hummer and the H1 now parked next to it.

"Oh..." he says, "You have been here before, what's your name man? I'll give you 4 shots instead of just 3 man, thanks for supporting us, are you from around here? Man... you should have a good day on the hill, man."

"Thanks... uh, yeah, um... I am heading back down the hill, I am driving, not skiing today." I say.

"Far out", he says now giving me the finger, "This should be good for a few of these when you head down for that traffic. What's your name man?"

I tell him Steve and get introduced to the entire staff. Hand shakes the whole bit. I walk out of the place shaking my head as I traverse a snow berm to get into the car. I wonder how jovial the conversation would have been if I told him I was a Republican?

Colorado High School Teacher Equates Bush to Hitler

This has got to stop. Seriously, joke's over you lefties. We get it. You all think Bush is a fascist.

But now you are teaching it to our kids? Mr. Bennish, who looks exactly like I pictured when I first heard the story, seems to think it's ok to tell impressionable kids the "facts" regarding the Bush Presidency. He does so by citing phrases from Bush's State of the Union Address and makes blanket statements saying, "Bush sounds like Adolf Hitler". This is a GEOGRAPHY class with maps and stuff. These poor kids are not even old enough to vote or make a rational decision in regards to voting yet. They'll vote what their parents vote or vote against their parents. That's it. I'm sorry but I don't need a teacher preaching his "facts" to school kids.

We were lucky a kid taped the whole event for all of us to hear. But you know what is coming next don't you? That's right... the teacher will be let go and he will sue. Sure he was suspended with pay until they investigate but he'll get fired. Bush of course will be the cause of this firing. And what's even more funny, he'll get a new case for the ACLU to screw our school system even more. Where are you for the teachers that don't wanna teach evolution eh? It seems the left only wants to defend rules that are their own.

Great! Here it comes!

***Update.. Read second comment below and follow link to hear what the teacher said***